


We're running up that road

by YohKoBennington



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Barebacking, Character Death, M/M, Psychological Drama, Rough Sex, Self-Harm, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-20
Updated: 2012-02-20
Packaged: 2017-10-31 12:05:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/343851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YohKoBennington/pseuds/YohKoBennington
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Castiel met Dean, it was love at first fuck. He didn't foresee falling so hard for him, as he also didn't count on all the complications that meant being with Dean. As years past and they form a life together it seems things can work out even with the constant black horizon over their heads. Still knowing this, the least anybody expected, was the tragic ending of their relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the D/C Dystopia challenge @ Livejournal. 
> 
>  
> 
> Link to art

 

 

 

 

 

[ ](http://s803.photobucket.com/albums/yy320/YB87/Fics%20art/?action=view&current=title.jpg)

 

_The moonlight bounced in every object that caught its ray. It was the only thing illuminating the eerie quiet apartment with the worn out sofa, that woolen blanket that they used to cuddle when the days were too cold and cruel, the coffee table with a coffee rim stain that either occupant could get off, the DVD collection with mostly action movies and one or another romantic movie that slipped past their manly radar; everything screamed homey. In the past few months it has been anything but that, only the physical shell of what it once was._

_The noise of water gushing out and hitting porcelain startled the silence. A small ray of light coming out of the half opened bathroom door to the bedroom with crumbled cold sheets in the bed that used to be warm with their bodies. The water splashing as the tub filled up echoed soundly in the ceramic blue walls._

_Blue hunted eyes stared back at the pale sleepless face in the mirror, taking on the bruised bags and the four-day-old stubble… almost a beard by now. The eyes fell down, to the calloused hands holding an orange half empty bottle. It wasn't his, but it was kind of poetic that it would serve as a mean to his end. Blue eyes went back to the mirror; he was smirking even though he hasn't felt like smiling at all in the past two months. Maybe he was happy now because he knew it would be over soon. Maybe, he just didn't have any more tears to spare._

 

 

[ ](http://s803.photobucket.com/user/YB87/media/xdw3I_zps51e390f3.jpg.html)

Gabriel was having a great dream involving a Jacuzzi and two hot chicks with tits so big they wouldn’t need life savers if the necessity to stay afloat in the beach came along. Of course, something had to interrupt his moment of oblivion. At first he didn't know what it was. Raising his head with eyes still half closed, Gabriel took a look to the alarm o'clock that proudly announced him that it was two in the morning and that he should be still sleeping. He was going to do just that, when the sound came again. He sat up in the bed, scratching his eyes to wake up. Through the window he could see the fat drops of rain falling on to the glass leaving the characteristic _clack-clack_  at their wake. Maybe that was what woke him up, though he never had a problem with the rain making noise before. Then the sound bounced on his walls, traveling all the way to his room.

Who the fuck was ringing his doorbell at this time of the night?

With an annoyed sigh, Gabriel got up from the bed and stomped to the door. Internally cursing his damn luck. It better not be his fucking neighbor asking if he could spare him some rubbers because he had this chick he found at the bar and he was running empty. One of these days, he was going to kill the idiot. Preparing himself to tell the asshole to fuck off, Gabriel swung the door open.

Of course he wasn't prepared to what he had in front of him. But he should have expected this to happen. There, shaking like a leaf during a hurricane and making a puddle of what he supposed most be cold rain water, was his little brother standing only wearing a t-shirt (probably Dean's) and his pajama pants. No shoes. Dark hair plastered over his pale face.

“ _Jesus Christ._ ” Gabriel sullenly sighed, grabbing Castiel by one of his hands and pulling him inside the apartment. “ You walked all the way here, during this fucking storm wearing nothing but that?” he said still dragging his brother behind. It was a twenty-minute distance by car, much more walking. Just the thought of Castiel walking through this damn rain in that condition made his stomach roll. “You're a damn moron!” he yelled with no heat in his words.

Behind him, Castiel stayed silent. It wasn't that Gabriel was expecting him to answer with a witty remark like he used to; everything that had happened last week was still too fresh in their memories, but it would had been nice if his brother decided to start talking again now.

Gabriel opened the bathroom door, turning on the lights. “Here,” he said, taking a big sized white towel from the closet and passing it to Castiel, “Start drying up. I'll get you something else to wear before you catch a cold.” He waited until his brother took the towel in his hands before he went back to his room and rummaged around for some sweats that would fit. He found an old hoodie in the closet that Castiel could wear under the shirt, and took one pair of new underwear that he always had saved in case of emergencies because he could be OCD on those things sometimes.

When he went back to the bathroom, Castiel was still wet and standing there, holding towel in his hands. Gabriel put the items on the porcelain sink, suppressing a wary sigh. He walked until he was in front of his brother and took the towel. He started by drying up the hair that was still dripping rainwater; it had gotten longer than what Castiel usually wore it. His brother hadn't had time to take care of it lately. Hair dried, Gabriel went to remove the wet clothing. Castiel let him do the entire job, like he was a puppet under his puppeteer command. To Gabriel, it was like when they were little and he used to help his tiny little brother dress before going down to eat their mother's special pancakes and go to school.

His little brother wasn't so little anymore, but somehow, looking into his eyes right now, it felt like he was seeing the same lost and confused expression Castiel used to wear when he didn't understood why people were so mean at school or why dad never was home anymore.

It broke Gabriel's heart.

He swallowed the lump forming on his throat. “Okay, time for bed.” He dragged Castiel to his room, because he knew that his brother wasn't going to move on his own steam. Pulling the covers back, he manhandled Castiel until he was laying on the bed before putting the covers over him. After a quick check to the front door to put the lock, he headed back to the room and got under the covers too. He faced his brother, who was lying on his back, staring at the ceiling.

“I know that anything I say right now won't take the pain away. And that I've never been in your shoes so I can't possibly imagine how it feels,” Gabriel started talking, his voice low and soft. “But know that I'm here, for you. Always. When you're ready to have somebody listen to you, I'll be there. You're not alone little brother, and as long as I'm here you'll never be.”

He saw Castiel swallow, the first voluntary movement he had made since he was standing in the hall. Then he moved to his side to face his brother, and Gabriel instantly opened his arms allowing him to get closer until his arm was hugging him. He felt Castiel's breathing against his neck, and he wasn't surprised of the warm wet feeling seconds later. He just hugged Castiel harder, and let him cry.

 

 

[ ](http://s803.photobucket.com/user/YB87/media/xdw3I_zps51e390f3.jpg.html)

_He opened the bottle cap, dropping it in the sink_ _. Took the pills into his palm, all of them. He looked at them like in a trance, thinking about how much he was going to hurt his brother with this. He loved Gabriel and he wished there was another ending to this pathetic, sad story. But there wasn't. He couldn't keep going through life like a ghost, living day by day in auto-motion because he has already been dead since the day his happiness literally flew through the window. And he wished he could be stronger to fight these feelings and try to come alive again. He couldn't. He tried, and now he knew what Dean felt like. How it felt when your emotions took control over your own body._

_But most of all, Castiel wished that Dean would have been right. That everything would have been okay. It wasn't, and it would never be, Castiel realized that now._

 

 

[ ](http://s803.photobucket.com/user/YB87/media/xdw3I_zps51e390f3.jpg.html)

When Dean was eight years old, he lost both his parents in a car accident. His little brother had been staying with their visiting uncle that evening and they were on their way to pick him up, when a car turned a corner too fast and crashed to the red light waiting line so hard that the car behind the Winchester's pushed their car into the incoming traffic. The car was hit by other two cars in both directions, and spun until it hit the lamp pole in one of the corners. Mary and John died on impact, and Dean was the only survivor.

After that, they were taken in by their uncle and moved to South Dakota where Bobby's house was. Before the accident, Sam and Dean were really attached to each other. Dean always protecting his little brother because that was part of his job as the oldest. But after the accident, their bond seemed to get stronger, and wherever Dean was, Sam was right behind him and vice versa. It was hard to get them to go back to school, especially because Dean didn't talked for a whole year. After he slowly started to speak again, even thought he wasn’t the same chit-chatting little boy that Bobby came to adore as soon as he met him. Most of the time he was quiet, only speaking when Bobby or Sam talked to him. In school, Dean was just the quiet kid with no friends but excellent grades, and once the professors knew about Dean's past, they would take their time to get Dean involved in class.

Bobby tried to take him to therapy, and that helped Dean to come out of his shell enough to start speaking again, but it didn't improve anything else. It worried Bobby to a certain degree, but he figured that when Dean was ready to be himself again, he would and pushing him to it wasn't an option.

Except that all hope of Dean being that lager than life person again came crashing down when he was diagnosed with manic depression disorder at the age of 15. The signs of Dean's disorder had been there all the time but neither of them had seen it and Dean had hid it pretty well. After Sam found him unconscious in the blood-stained carpeted floor because Dean had cut too deep this time, things were out in the open.

After that day, the roles between brothers changed. Instead of Dean always looking out for his brother, now Sam was the one always looking after Dean. Making sure he took his pills before going to school, and trying to make Dean happy so no bad thoughts would creep into his big brother's head. Dean's almost successful suicide attempt and time expended in the mental institution had scared the living hell out of Sam. The thought of losing his brother, that at any giving day Dean could wake thinking he had enough and try to kill himself again or that he would get so bad that he would need to be institutionalized, was something he could not bare going through. It was hard over the years and it never got easier to see Dean going through the relapses and not being able to fix it. But Sam never gave up on him and the only thing he could do was ride it out with Dean, make sure his big brother knew he was there for him.

This is how they expended the next years, Sam keeping an eye on Dean and Dean trying to make the best of his fucked up life. Sam ended up getting a full ride to Stanford at the end of his senior year in high school, but the thought of not being near Dean made him choose to go to a college near their home. Dean didn't go to college, because being around people wasn't a pleasant experience he could go through without Sam as his buffer. But he finished high school and never the wiser, he didn't sit on his butt and started to help Bobby with his mechanic/junk yard business full time. It kept him busy enough until Sam was back home to tell him about his day and this girl named Jessica that became his friend. It wasn't a surprise to Dean or Bobby that Sam and Jessica started dating months later. It was a surprise though, how well Jessica got alone with Dean. She treated him like he was her own brother, and never like he was a burden because of his disease. Jessica would talk for hours with Dean, even when he would just listen and sometimes give a monosyllabic response. When Jessica made Dean smile the first time, and when she stayed at Sam's side at one of Dean's relapses giving him support and helping with keeping an eye on his big brother without being asked, and only giving love and kindness. Sam knew that she was the one.

Sam and Jessica got married after they graduated college, and they got a house a couple of blocks away from Bobby's. Dean was Sam's best man at the wedding. It was a good day for him, and seeing his brother so in love made him wonder if he would ever be that happy, if he could ever find someone that accepted him with his defects. Realizing that it was less likely for that to happen, he strayed from unpleasant thoughts that could trigger an attack, and turned his gaze back to the water. Jessica's parents had this little cottage by the beach in California and they offered for the weeding. It was a beautiful place. The waves hugged his bare feet where he sat as he contemplated the sunset. He has never seen a sunset so breath-taking.

Just then, someone sat down in the sand barely centimeters away from him. No too close to his personal space, but close enough that Dean could make out the blue eyes that reminded him of the ocean in front of him.

“Sorry, do you mind? I need to sit down before I face plant in the sand. I shouldn't have had that much champagne… it's going straight to my head. But how many times does your childhood best friend get married, one has to celebrate, right?” the guy blushed, and Dean tilted his head, feeling fascinated by the reddish pink smearing the guy's cheeks that seemed to deepen with the slowly disappearing sunlight. “I'm sorry, I'm talking too much, aren’t I? I think I might be a bit drunk. Don't tell Jess, I'm supposed be the responsible one and keep and eye on her mom, who by the way is way past drunk at this point, so I totally fail at being the drunken lady's keeper. And I need to shut up before you deck me a new one.” The guy covered his mouth with his palm to stop himself from keep babbling. “I'm Castiel, by the way.”

Dean felt himself slightly smirking. He never met someone that could talk that much in a sentence besides Sam. He found it somewhat amusing.

The guy started fidgeting in the sand like he had too much energy and could stay in one place. “Are you friends with the family, or a family member of Sam's? Because I know everybody in Jess's side and I'm pretty sure I would have remembered you. You are kinda difficult to forget. Oh god, now I'm hitting on you.” the stranger, Castiel, dropped his head in his bended knees embarrassed, which by the grimace in his face it wasn't such good idea.

Dean stared at him, taking on the hand messed up dark hair, the prominent cheekbones and full mouth. His white dress shirt unbuttoned enough that he could see some collarbone, the fitting dress black pants rolled up to his calf. Castiel was for a better part of the definition, somebody Dean wouldn't hesitate to take to his bed. Hey, he might be fucked in the head, but it didn't mean that his dick was in the same problematic program or that his libido was any different from normal guys. “Dean,” he simply said, and turned his gaze back to the sunset.

“Nice to meet you, Dean.” He heard Castiel say before they felt into a comfortable silence.

Dean doesn't see him again until a couple of months later when they are both in the newlywed's house to celebrate Sam's birthday. He recognizes him right away, mostly because when you're a quiet person somehow you become more observant and remember most things people tend to pass by. Also Castiel is hard to forget. It seems Dean is too, when Castiel walks to him to say hi and starts a conversation even though his recipient hasn't said a word back. As if he knows that Dean is paying attention to every word coming out of his mouth and it doesn't seem to matter to him that he's not getting other feedback that Dean's expressions. Somewhere along their one sided conversation, Dean decides to go for it and takes both their drinks (his some soda because alcohol is out of his repertoire), grabs Castiel by the wrist and drags him back to the house. Castiel follows him silently, until they are so far away that the music from the party is barely audible. As soon the door closes behind them, Dean is on him. Right there in the laundry room he fucks him raw and hard until Castiel’s knees gives up and he’s breathing hard against the washing machine. It was the best sex he’s ever had, possibly because the excitement of getting caught had turned them both on. They don't say anything as they put themselves back into a presentable manner. Dean isn’t expecting anything more from Castiel than a good fuck, and he assumed that the feeling was mutual.

Except, it wasn't.

Next time he saw Castiel, he was buried under a car in the shop trying to find out what was causing it to leak oil. When he came out and saw him sitting on the table next to the toolbar, he was more than surprised. His face must have showed it because next minute Castiel is getting to his feet. He looked nervous, cleaning his throat and swinging his arms back in forth.

“Okay, this is kind of awkward.” Castiel cleared his throat again nervously. “First I want to say that I'm not stalking you.” He looked at Dean seriously, eyebrows pulled up to his hairline. “I so happen to be eating with Jessica and she mentioned this place, when I told her my piece of shit of car is giving me trouble again. So, I brought it in, and you are here too.” Castiel made a movement signaling Dean's whole body. “Which is good, kind of, I feel like I know you so...” he bit his lower lip and waited to see if Dean would say something, then breathed hard. “Get to the point right?” he laughed nervously. “I've been thinking about you, and that day in the laundry room. I know it was a one time thing, hell, I took it as another lay in the book. No offense.” he blushed. “But... I just can't stop thinking about you.”

Dean knew where this was going. If he were another person, if he didn't carry so much baggage, he would take in the opportunity. Because the truth was that he had been thinking about Castiel too, he just didn't allow himself to dwell too much about it because there was no point on wasting his time dreaming things that he could never have. So, there was no reason to keep hearing what Castiel was trying to ask him. There was only one answer to that question.

He raised both hands, palms flat in a stopping gesture that Castiel took as a sign for shutting up. “I'm flattered,” he started saying, voice soft and calming. The last thing he wanted was to hurt his feelings. “But the answer is no.”

Castiel blinked surprised a couple of times, probably because it was the first time Dean said more than one word to him, before his shoulders slumped slightly. Dean felt a pressure in his chest at his sad deflated look, and he wondered what was it about this guy that made him feel this way. He had done this before, when a hook up asked if they could see each other again and Dean hadn't any problem or remorse with saying no. But with Castiel...he felt like he just told him his puppy got run over by a car.

“Okay, I understand.” Castiel nodded, and gave him a small smile. Rejection was never easy to take no matter how confident and secure of yourself you were.

Dean sighed, weighing how to make him understand that he was just trying to save him from disappointment. “It's better that way, Cas.” he said avoiding looking at the deep blue eyes, as he cleaned his greasy hands with the rag hanging from his pocket. When there was no answer from the other side, he raised his head to find Castiel smiling at him.

“You called me Cas,” he answers at Dean's questioning expression. His smile turning knowingly, eyes sparkling.

Dean felt his face heat up, and he scratched at his neck nervously. He hadn't meant to be so personal, especially when he was trying to shoo the guy away. Apparently his subconscious was trying to do the opposite. “Sorry,” he murmured embarrassed.

“No, no. I like it.” Castiel said happily. Dean's previous rejection was forgotten and ignored, like it never happened.

They stared at each other in awkward silence for what it seemed an hour, but probably was a couple of minutes. Dean with a confused expression, and Castiel still smiling as if he had won some kind of battle that the mechanic hadn't been aware of.

“One date.” Dean finally said, sighing heavily. “Nothing more.”

“That will be enough,” Castiel winked at him. “Arrowhead Park 8 pm. Tomorrow. Meet you at the south side.”

Dean quirked one eyebrow, but before he could agree or decline Castiel had walked the space between them and gave him a small peck in the lips. Then he was gone. Dean just stared at the wall not knowing what to do with himself, still trying to decide if this was a good idea at all.

 

 

 

[ ](http://s803.photobucket.com/user/YB87/media/xdw3I_zps51e390f3.jpg.html)

  _Castiel was truly sorry for what he was about to do to all the people that still cared about him, for how much of a coward he was being. But he hoped the last words he left were enough for them to understand. Or at least to move on..._

_He slammed the fist full of pills to his open mouth, and swallowed then down with a glass of tap water._

“ _You didn't set me free.” Castiel whispered, staring again at his reflection, talking to the nothingness that his life had become._

 

 

[ ](http://s803.photobucket.com/user/YB87/media/xdw3I_zps51e390f3.jpg.html)

 

 

 

 

The date at the park had been the first of many. Even if it had been awkward at the beginning because Dean was so closed off and quiet, they had used their time mostly with their mouths attached to each other. When the time for the park's closing had come Castiel had taken Dean back to his apartment to revive the moment they expended in Sam's house thoroughly.

Sam, he hadn’t been too happy about Dean dating at all. He had said it plain and simple to Castiel, and he felt a bit gloomy about the situation but he wasn't going to give up on Dean just because his brother didn't approved of them being together. In the short time of knowing him, Castiel had found in Dean what he had been looking for in his past relationships. That cosmical connection that made his heart beat faster with just hearing a voice, a blinding smile, feeling the slightly touch, and looking into those deep green eyes. Such a powerful feelings that without him, Castiel felt completely lost.

It was scary, to feel that way. To depend so strongly on someone emotionally and physically. But he comforted himself by knowing that Dean felt the same; he wasn't falling into this endless pit of feelings alone. The amazing sex was just a plus.

Then one day, the reason for Sam's reservations exploded right in Castiel's face.

It all started with a simple banter between the two brothers that should had been nothing more than that. Castiel was soon to discover that when it came to Dean, things were never  _simple_.

“Stop it.” Dean had growled, getting up from the stool seat in the breakfast counter. As Castiel and Jessica talked about recipes that he could use later on by the stove.

“Stop what?” Sam had asked confused going after him.

“Looking at us like that. Looking at me like I'm going to break,” he snarled, voice low and controlled.

Sam's mouth turned into a frown, but he said nothing.

He didn't needed to, after all Dean had become a master of reading people's eyes. And what he saw in Sam's, the distrust melted with worry made him angrier than he had ever been with his brother.

“ _Fuck you_ , Sam.” It was just a whisper, but there was so much contained emotion there that Sam physically flinched. “I deserve to have  _this,_ too.”

“Dean,” he sighed heavily, an apology already about to form in his tongue. That wasn't what he meant to transmit. He wanted to see Dean happy above anything, it's what he had being trying to make sure of since he was eleven years old.

But his brother didn't let him say anything else, because he was walking out of the house like he couldn't stand being in the same roof as Sam anymore. Castiel and Jessica had both stayed behind the counter witnessing the argument; if that could have been called one. But as soon as his now-boyfriend was out of sight, Castiel was leaving the safety of the kitchen to go after him.

“Thanks for the recipe tips, Jess,” he said getting his jacket on, and then stopped in front of a sad looking Sam. He hadn't moved from his spot, still looking at the closed door. “He didn't mean it,” Castiel said because he felt that he had to, and somewhat the brothers’ fighting was his fault.

Sam spared him a look, and nodded closing his eyes as he took a deep calming breath. “I just don't want him to get hurt.”

“He won't be. I love him too much to allow that.”

“I hope that, no matter what, you  _never_  forget it.” Sam answered looking at him straight in the eyes. Before walking the opposite direction.

There was something in the way Sam said those words that send a chill down Castiel's back. He didn't have time to mull it over though. He had to find Dean, which wasn't such a hazard because there was only one place that the mechanic could be right at the moment. The Impala was still parked in Sam's front lawn where they had left it when they came to visit the newlywed's, after Dean had picked up Castiel from work to have lunch together.

The ten-minute walk felt like thirty, as a sense of dread had spread in his chest that he couldn't explain. Sam's words still haunting him when he opened the front door of Bobby's house.

“Dean?” He called, getting no answer. Closing the door, he took off his jacket and dropped it in the worn down couch as he called Dean's name again, obtaining the same result. Castiel knew his boyfriend was somewhere in the house, so he checked the bottom floor before finally climbing up to the second floor and Dean's room.

The room was empty. Sighing disappointed, Castiel started walking out to check the garage and scrapyard next. He stopped when a noise caught his attention. It sounded like water, a shower to be precise, and it was coming from Dean's bathroom. Frowning he walked to the closed door, and without calling again because it was obviously fruitless, he opened wide until it was against the tiled green wall.

Suddenly time seemed to stop, rooting him at the door threshold. A painful gasp escaped from deep inside his lungs like he had been holding on breathing under the water for too long. His brain trying to process the scene in front of him. The blood stained tiled floor of the shower and the water falling from the showerhead turning red as soon it hit the blood flowing towards it. Dean's shirt and arms bloody. The knife over Dean's arm. Dean's hand holding said knife ready to make another cut.

That's when everything clicked. The faint scars in his boyfriend arms that he never wanted to talk about. Dean's own secluded and anti-social behavior that Castiel had pinned to him just being a private and mysterious person. Why Dean never stayed the night. Why he still was living at his uncle’s house at twenty-six. Why, even though he was such a talented mechanic he was working in the scrapyard instead of working in a place that could give him better income or even opening his own place. Why he hadn't gone to college. Why Dean had insisted that he didn't do relationships. Sam's reservations. Dean's own reservations.

It all fell into place, as he saw his boyfriend hurting himself.

He was hurting himself and those cuts looked pretty deep.

In a second, his paralysis was gone and he sprinted to stop Dean from cutting again. Dean startled when he felt Castiel hand closing over his wrist and forcing it away from his arm, like he hadn't known somebody else was in the bathroom too.

“Stop.” Castiel 's voice came out choked, the knot in his throat making difficult to even swallow. “What are you doing?”

Dean stared at him, but it was like he wasn't there. His eyes blank, red rimmed and eyebrows furrowed. Then he tried get his hand free.

“Dean, stop it. No.” Castiel fought back, tightening his hold and using his other hand to stop Dean from pushing him away with his injured arm.

“Let go,” Dean hissed.

“No.” Castiel growled back. He didn't know why he was suddenly angry. Maybe it was just the fear of not being able to stop Dean, or just seeing him hurt. But if it helped to get the knife off from him, then he welcomed it.

Dean struggled to get free again, but Castiel basically sat on his leg pinning him down. “Stop fighting dammit!”

“Let me go!” Dean barked, his own anger echoing through the walls.

“Never.” Castiel said, his voice small. The adrenaline was making his heart pound against his ribcage hard and he was shaking from the cold water splatting on the floor and getting them wet. “Why are you doing this to yourself?”

Dean didn't answer him, his gaze transfixed on the knife in his hand.

“Talk to me,” Castiel pleaded, desperate to get through him. He was worried about the blood still dribbling from the wounds, but he had to convince Dean to get out of the shower first. He had never dealt with something like this before, and he was going on pure instinct. His mind kept screaming  _distract, stop, save him_.

“Just leave.”

“I don't want to.”

“You will, like everybody else does. All because of me. Because I'm such a fuck up.”

“Don't talk like that.” Castiel admonished. That Dean thought those things rubbed him in the wrong way.

Dean was ignoring him again in favor of the knife.

“Look at me!” Castiel let go of his hands to grab Dean's face and make him look up to him. “You're  _not_ a fuck up. Not everybody leaves. Sam, Jessica and Bobby are still here, aren’t they? I'm  _here_.”

Dean shook his head. “You'll get tired, Cas,” he said softly. “Sam's already tired.”

“You don't know that.”

“It will be so much easier if I was gone, you know?” He closed his eyes, resting his head on the wall. Tongue swiping over his bottom lip. “Sometimes I just want this constant war with myself, and that destroys everything I touch to stop.” When he opened his eyes again, there was resignation in them. “I'm tired, Cas.”

“Don't you say that. Ever. You can't give up. I need you here with me Dean.”

“Why?” he asked genuinely confused. Like he didn't know what difference it made his existence in their lives.

It broke Castiel in half. “Because I fucking love you!” His hands tightened on Dean's face, as he looked at him straight into his dull eyes to get his point across. “ I don't want to be with nobody else. I want all of you. The good and the bad. All of it. I'm not letting you go. I'll fight you over and over again, until you can see what I see in you. Until you realize that behind whatever this is tormenting you, there is this wonderful person that shines through the darkness.” Castiel breathes, thumbs now moving soothingly over his boyfriend's cheekbones. “You need to keep fighting Dean, because you deserve it. Because you owe it to Sam and Bobby. To Jessica. To me. But over everything you owed to yourself.”

“I don't know if I can.”

“You do. You're stronger than what you give yourself credit for, and you will always have Sam. And I'll always be here for you. I'm not going anywhere and you better start getting used to the idea.” Castiel smirked. “So, I need you to drop that knife, and we need to get out of the water because I'm freezing my pretty butt here.” That got Dean to slightly smile. “Then we are going to clean up your wounds. If you behave I'll make you any pie you want tomorrow. Deal?”

Dean nodded. Castiel breathed a sigh of relieve when he dropped the knife. He pushed it far away from them before getting up and helping Dean. He left the shower running, so it would clean up the blood, as he took care of the now slowly bleeding wounds. Dean was quiet, intently observing Castiel as he gathered all the supplies from the med-kit under the sink, cleaned up the cuts and then bandaged them. But the dull in his eyes was gone, and Castiel counted that as winning the battle.

After they both changed into dry clothes, Castiel borrowing a pair of sweats and shirt, he steered Dean toward Sam's old room. Dean hesitated at the door, but Castiel took his hand and dragged him inside. They lay in the bed until the room was filled with Dean soft breathing against his neck, and injured arm resting over his chest. Warm. Alive. Castiel lay in the bed trying to take in everything that had happened. He had questions, and he needed answers. But he knew that it didn't matter what the answers were, what he said to Dean was true. He wasn't running from this relationship just because things were more complicated than he expected them to be. When push came to shove, he won't be the one walking away. Never.

Sam's voice came through the first floor, startling Castiel who had started to dose off. He carefully moved out of Dean's grip, and padded silently but fast out of the room to find Sam before he called again and waked him up.

“Hey,” he called, keeping his voice down when he found him about to climb the stairs.

Sam stared at him, and Castiel didn't know how, maybe years of experience, but he knew right away. “Shit, is he okay?”

Castiel swallowed hard, because even when Dean wasn't in that shower hurting himself anymore. He wasn't okay. Far from it. “He's in your room,” he opted to answer and moved away to let Sam pass by.

While he waited for Sam to come back, Castiel busied himself by cleaning up Dean's bathroom. The blood was almost completely gone thanks to the water still running in the shower, as it was the irony smell. Castiel closed the tap, and then picked up all the bloody clothes from the floor. He went down to the kitchen to get a black plastic bag, and threw them inside. He didn't think that amount of blood could come out of the clothes so he took the bag outside to the trash. When he came back inside, he put a fresh coffee pot.

His hands were shaking bad. It was like his body was finally catching up with the situation. He took a deep breath, trying to calm down. By the time he felt like he could breath without choking, the coffee was done. Detaching his hurting hands from the edge of the sink, were they had fisted into a deathly grip, he took two cups a filled them with the dark brew.

When Sam came back downstairs, Castiel was sitting in the dining room waiting.

“Is he still sleeping?”

Sam regarded him for a couple of minutes, as if he didn't expected Castiel to still be in the house. Then he sat in front of him, and took the offered coffee. “He woke up for a while, and then went back to sleep after we talked.”

Castiel scratched his nose as he nodded. They felt in to an awkward silent.

“Are you alright?” Sam's sincere concern in his voice, made Castiel raise his eyes from the interesting spot in the table.

He nodded again. “What is it?”

“Manic depressive. Type II.”

“How long?”

“Since he was diagnosed at 15. Could have been longer than that.”

“Does this happen a lot?”

Sam shook his head. “He hasn't done it on that scale since he was a teenager.” His hands tightened around the coffee mug.

“It wasn't your fault.” Castiel tried to put him at ease.

Sam sneered. “Yeah, it was,” then he sighed relaxing into the chair. “Sometimes I forget, you know? Dean has been with this for so long that he knows how to keep it hidden. How to look normal to everybody else. It's easier to just pretend nothing is wrong so we can live our lives. But it isn't and Dean can't always control it. And when it gets too overwhelming, he cuts. It's how he keeps himself grounded. How he stops his brain from concentrating on the thoughts that will make him do something... bad.” he swallows the knot Castiel knows is residing in his throat, because he has one too. “The problem is, cutting is a double tipped weapon.”

Castiel tried to not let his mind wonder back to the scene in the bathroom, or to think how many times Sam has been through the same thing. “Is there anything we can do?”

Sam stared at him again, his eyes scrutinizing Castiel who stopped himself from fidgeting in his seat. “ You sure you want to stay for this?”

“Yes.” He answered not even taking a minute to think about it. There was nothing else to think about anyways.

“You sure? It's not easy Cas. What happened today is a walk in the park compared to how bad it can get.”

“It doesn't matter. I'm staying.”

Maybe it was the conviction in Castiel's voice or that he hadn't escaped when he had the opportunity of leaving and not looking back, but he was rewarded with a smile from Sam.

“Alright then.”


	2. Chapter 2

_Somewhere in the back of his head, Castiel felt that he was disappointing Dean. Shitting all over his last wish like it didn't mean anything to him. But then he thinks that he could care less because Dean gave up first. He left him here, alone to live with his ghost every single day for the rest of his life. Wishing this was a nightmare and he would wake up already. To wake up with Dean's heat pressing against his back instead of an empty space._

_Then wishing every night when he went to sleep after another day of fighting with himself, to never wake up in the morning. Because his dreams were much better than this obscure reality._

_But just wishing...took you nowhere._

 

 

 

[ ](http://s803.photobucket.com/user/YB87/media/xdw3I_zps51e390f3.jpg.html)

True to Sam's words, it wasn't easy. But they managed to be together for five years with no big problems. Through every headache and loss of appetite. Dean had days when he didn't want to get out of bed and nothing would make him move further than the bathroom. Castiel would expend the day with him, making sure he ate and attended every necessity. The first time he had the chance to witness his insomnia after moving together, he waited for Dean to come back from the walk he always took to try to tire himself into sleep. Inside the Impala, naked, feet raised on the backseat’s open window, and wearing his boyfriend's favorite boots. After that night, Dean never left the apartment when he couldn't sleep. When Dean lost his temper, Castiel would find a way to calm him down by distracting him from whatever was upsetting him. They had built a system through the years, and it worked.

No matter how hard things sometimes got, for Castiel, every worrying and stressing moment was worth having Dean next to him each morning. To drink on his peaceful and yet vulnerable face when the world didn't seem to choke him into desperation. To hear his soft shallow breathing, and sometimes feel it brushing over him, which told him it was another day and Dean was still here, with him. Castiel liked to wake up and stare at the sunlight over making Dean's skin look golden. He loved to count how many new freckles were in his back, shoulders and face. He traced every feature of his face with the tip of his finger, until his own skin would memorize again the warm feeling.

Exactly what he was doing now. Each time Dean's eyes would flutter open and stared at him sleepy. Sometimes he would give him a toothy smile, like he was doing at the moment. Castiel loved the crinkles that formed around his eyes when he smiled like that.

“Morning,” He smiled back.

“Morning,” Dean answered, voice scratchy from sleep, and getting closer to Castiel until his nose was buried in his neck. He kissed between his nape and ear, and kept moving up until he found the lobe and bit it playfully.

Castiel shivered, automatically tilting his head to expose his neck. It was their signal. They would be at the department store and if Dean did this, Castiel knew what it meant. _Sex. Now_.

You could take it as good part, that this disorder made his sexual appetite insatiable. Because other things Castiel loved about Dean was the thing he could do with that plump mouth and tongue of his. The sensation of fullness when Dean was buried deep inside him had no comparison with anyone else he had been with before. But the best part, and you might call him a stupid romantic, was when during sex they would look at each other eyes. It was so intimate and deep, all their emotions bared out for the other to take.

Dean's hand was moving to his back, slowly, tracing his spine line. It sent another shiver through his body down to his dick. Castiel was already half hard. It was like his body was wired to respond to Dean's touch instantly. He gasped when Dean's hand moved to his hip and dragged him, cutting any distance between them, and making their cocks rub together.

Castiel opened easily when Dean kissed him hard and dirty, morning breath be damned. His own hands grabbing the base of his nape, fingers digging in the short messy blond hair as their hips started grinding at the same pace. Their tongues twisting into a tug of war, until the only thing they were breathing was each other’s air.

He enjoyed the familiarity of this type of sex, and even when they had done this so many times, in every single possible way Castiel always wanted more. He couldn't get tired of Dean. He broke their kiss, sucking his bottom lip before letting go, and traced wet kisses down Dean's jaw to his neck. Then nibbling his way to his collarbone were he bit enough to make sure to leave a mark, making Dean groan and grind their cocks harder.  _Mine_. Dean was his, and he had no problem on make that clear to everybody. It was funny, because Castiel never saw himself as the possessive type. But with Dean, it was different. He had become some sort of protective watchdog, and he knew he couldn't blame this on his boyfriend's disease. Chances were he would be the same protective and possessive because he wouldn't want anybody to take him away from him. His hands moved down to map Dean's torso, feeling the muscles moving under his fingertips. How Dean's skin goosebumped when he plays over his navel teasingly. Castiel could do this forever. Just the two of them in the bed, away from the world.

Castiel choked a surprised moan, when he felt callused hands hold his dick and thumb rub over the wet with pre-come head.

“You're thinking too much.” Dean whispered, turning Castiel on his back as he crowed over him. He twisted his wrist again, his grip tight enough to create the friction he knew drove Castiel closer to the edge.

Castiel's back arched, moaning louder. Dean took the opportunity to latch into one of his nipples, licking, sucking and then biting when the nob became hard under his touch. He let go of Castiel's cock too fumble with his balls as he gave the same treatment to the other nipple, the ragged breaths and moaning coming from Castiel going straight to his dick. But it wasn't enough. Dean wanted to hear him scream, and beg for more. He went lower, stopping minutely to deep his tongue inside the bellybutton, feeling the muscle flutter against his tongue. Before getting to his objective, sitting waiting for some attention. Dean gave it. He dragged his tongue over the underside.

“Fuck,” Castiel gasped, hands fisting the bed sheets. Then his hips were bucking up, when Dean took him all the way in.  _Ohohshitohdeandontstopoh_. His voice getting louder with every sucking, licking and moan vibrating on his cock.

Dean kept him place with his arm as he bobbed his head and with the other he teased the puckered hole until Castiel was writhing and begging him for more. He let him go with a loud pop, and grinned at the whine Castiel couldn't stop from escaping from his lips. “Patience,” he murmured, kissing him.

“Just, _please_.” Castiel gasped. He could feel the pleasure building in his belly, balls dragging up preparing for the release to come. He wanted Dean inside now.

Dean raised his palm over his face, and Castiel obediently licked until it was shinning wet. He watched hungrily as Dean rubbed the hand over his cock, and then lined himself up, the cock head nudging his entrance.

This was his favorite moment. When Dean split him in two in one swift move, while looking at him intensively in the eyes. It hurt. But Castiel welcomed the pain, because he liked when Dean took him like this. Raw and rough. Nothing in the middle, only skin to skin. Only him and Dean. It was some kind of fucked up reassurance that they were both alive another day.

He met each of Dean's thrust, moving his feet up to his hips to drag him closer. Dean moved a hand under Castiel's hip to raise him up, changing the position of his thrust deeper. Castiel moaned, eyes closing and face going slack when he started hitting his prostate with every push. He was so damn close. The drag of their sweaty bodies over his trapped dick creating enough friction and combining with each wave of pleasure that traveled thought his body. Dean was thrusting harder and faster now, signaling that he was as close.

“Dean,” Castiel screamed as he came all over his chest. He was sure even his neighbors heard this one. It had happened before. But he was too busy coming down from his high and keeping up with Dean until he finally stilled and came inside him, to care about it. His slack expression of pleasure alone was enough for Castiel to want go at it all over again.

Dean lay his head between Castiel's neck and the pillow, waiting until he could catch his breath. Castiel wasn't any better, he hugged Dean to him with his free hand, the other had entwined with Dean's at some point. They stayed like that for a while, feeling the other breathing against their chest.

“Love you,” Dean whispered to his ear.

Castiel's heart thumped harder, dangerously trying to burst out. No matter how many times Dean would say those words, it felt bigger each time. And he was glad that after all these years, they were as in love as they were on the first day. That even when sometimes the thoughts of giving up would try to stain what they had, they wouldn't let it happen.

“Forever.” Castiel answered back.

 

 

 

[ ](http://s803.photobucket.com/user/YB87/media/xdw3I_zps51e390f3.jpg.html)

_He took a deep breath. It made him feel relieved even though he should have felt dread that he was about to die. His hand came to rest over the logo of AC/DC on his chest, just above his heart. It was one of Dean's favorite shirts that Castiel always hated at the beginning because it had so many holes it made his boyfriend look like a homeless person, but Dean couldn't be convinced to get rid of it. Castiel stopped pestering him the day he found out the shirt once belonged to Dean's father._

_Funny, how now it was Castiel's own security blanket._

_Water spilled over the tub, and Castiel moved slowly to close the valve. He stepped over the tub, his legs getting wet over the pajama pants as soon they touch the lukewarm water. Castiel sat down until only his chest was out of the water._

_Now he just had to wait._   
  
_As he waited, his mind strayed to the good and bad memories of him and Dean together, of his life after Dean. And even if he tried not to go there, his mind took him to the day when he lived the worst pain he could have ever experienced._

 

 

 

[ ](http://s803.photobucket.com/user/YB87/media/xdw3I_zps51e390f3.jpg.html)

 

It didn't stay all right forever. Castiel couldn't place exactly when everything has gone to shit. They had just come from Dean's niece’s birthday that weekend, and he hadn't seen Dean smile and laugh after having a pretty bad remission that almost sent him back to the institution two months go. He thought things were looking up again.

_He thought wrong._

Still ragged around the ages, they went to their normal routine. That was why Castiel had been doing some laundry in the baseman where the washers and dryers were in their building.

That's why he never noticed the commotion outside in the streets.

When he went back up to their apartment, he noticed it oddly empty. He had called Dean's name, and got no response. Something in the silence of their apartment made his stomach tie into knots. Then he noticed the open window, the white curtain flowing with the incoming wind as if was luring Castiel to peek outside.

He dropped the laundry basket on the floor and walked with dread to the open window and looked outside. There was nothing out of normal, until he dropped his gaze to the street, where a group of people had gathered and were looking up to his window.

Not to his window, Castiel realized with horror when he leaned over the windowsill. They were looking at his boyfriend.

Dean who was currently sitting on the small edge of the building outside. His feet dangling into the open air that could bring his death if he fell from there.

“Dean?” Castiel called his name, his voice shaking.

Dean had been looking to the sky, seemly deep in thought. When he heard Castiel's voice he moved his head to look at him but he didn't answered back.

“Dean, would you please come back inside?” Castiel tried to ask nicely, the last thing he wanted to do is provoke Dean to jump.

Dean just stared at him, his eyes roaming over Castiel's face. Like he wanted to commit it to memory, just before he...

Castiel felt his heart up to his throat; he had to get Dean back in.

“Please, babe, can you come back in?” he pleaded, leaning over the window dangerously to get closer to Dean.

Dean didn’t seem worried about Castiel getting closer to stop him. It was like he knew that no matter what Castiel did, there was going to be only one outcome.

“Remember the first time we met?” Dean suddenly asked.

Castiel smiled at the memory. “Yeah, I’m still embarrassed about it.”

That got Dean to smile wide. “Before you started to ramble, I was thinking that I would never find somebody that loved me as much as Jessica loves my brother. That I could never have their kind of happiness. You gave it to me Cas, and I could never thank you enough for that.”

“You don't have to, because without you, I wouldn't have a reason to love the way I love you Dean.” Castiel replies tenderly. He was aware of the police cars and fire trucks arriving, but his sole attention was to get Dean out of danger. “ Dean, please, you could fall. Whatever it is we can fix it like we always do.”

Dean stopped smiling. “No, we can't.”

Castiel wasn't taken aback by his negative reaction. It was part of Dean's disease, after all. Sometimes when it got this bad it took Castiel and Sam combined effort, to put him back together. But they always did. “Don't say that, you know you can beat it. Just come back inside, okay? We can talk about it. I can call Sam if you prefer talking to him instead. Please, babe, please don't do this.”

Dean took his eyes away from Castiel and stared back to the sky. “It's the only way, Cas.”

“No, dammit!” Castiel was losing control; he didn't know what to do to stop this. “I know it seems like things are pretty bad right now, and that there is no escape from this. But you'll get better again, you always do.”

Dean looked back at him again. “ I love you, you know that right?”

Castiel felt his eyes sting, “ I do. I love you too, so much. Please, Dean.”

“I know, that's why I've to do it.”

“Because I love you?”

“Because I can't keep doing this to you. It's never going to get better, Cas. I've been fighting it almost all my life, and it will never go away. I just can't keep doing this anymore. I can't see you or Sam suffer because of me. I want you two to be happy.”

“I'm happy with you.” Castiel assured him.

Dean smiled again, it was kind of creepy of how calm he was when he was talking about killing himself and sitting eight floors up to the cemented sidewalk below.

“You think you are, but this isn't happiness. You love me too much to see the truth or to leave me. But you're not happy. Nobody can be happy living like this. I don't want to keep dragging you down Cas, it's killing me more than what's wrong with me.”

“Dean, please don't do it. Please, please...” Castiel begged, warm tears slid down his cheeks until they dropped on the edge.

“Sometimes love is not enough.” He took a deep breath looking at the sky pensively. “I really loved that beach. Would love to go back there.”

“We can go together, just get back inside.” Castiel choked, grasping at his last hope that Dean will listen to him.

“Don't cry.” Dean said in a small voice, and for the first time since this started he looked sad. “I promise it will be okay.”

Castiel shook his head, “No without you. I can't, just please...” He stretched his hand towards Dean, so his boyfriend would use it to get back.

Dean glanced at it but didn't take it.

“Be happy Cas,” he said, just before he slid of the edge.

“NO!” Castiel scream was melted with the surprised and horrified screams of the people downstairs. “Goddammit, Dean!” He lamented, stomping his fist in the windowsill.

Castiel felt his knees give up, and he fell on the carpeted floor of their apartment in shock. The image of Dean's body falling down and landing on the concrete, playing over and over again in his head.

He sat there, tears running freely down his face, in the oppressive silence until the police forced their way in and tried to get him to react. But all Castiel was aware of was his heart slowly dying as Dean's blood painted the concrete sidewalk.

 

 

 

[ ](http://s803.photobucket.com/user/YB87/media/xdw3I_zps51e390f3.jpg.html)

_Castiel didn't notice when his eyes closed, or the water going over his head. He was lost in Dean's face, the way he smiled at him in the mornings. The feel of his warm skin at the tips of his fingers when Castiel traced the freckles on his body. Remembering how protected and loved his arms made him feel when Dean hugged him. As his lungs filled with water and his heartbeat slowed down until there was nothing more, Castiel let himself go._

_When he opened his eyes again, the sun was high up the blue sky. The rays of sunshine warming up his skin as the tilde waves crashed somewhere in the massive ocean, leaving a thunderous sound behind. Sometimes they just reached the hot sand and wet his slacks clad feet. His chest had that distinct feeling you get when you had swallowed water, and his throat felt raw when he took a swallow to make the the taste of salt he could too smell in the air disappear._

_It felt peaceful. He has been here before._

_He moved his head slowly to the side; it felt so heavy and light at the same time._

_Green eyes meet blue._

_Castiel shyly smiled, getting the same gesture in return from the face that he has memorized every single aspect for the past few years, allowing him to know more about the person that stole his heart than any words that could had been said._

_Dean was still as beautiful as he remembered. The grains of sand covering his freckled face, the skin of the neck that the white dress shirt allowed him to see, and getting lost on his dark blond short hair._

_Arms touched, and fingers entwined in a strong hold over the sand. Eyes never leaving their place of focus. This time, either was letting the other go._

_Castiel smile grew bigger. Dean smiled with the same happiness, lips stretching over white perfect teeth, and then moved closer to Castiel joining their lips in a soft kiss._

_He made it._

_He was home now._

 

**The end.**

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. ♥


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